Last man Standing
by BananaPudding
Summary: The walking dead are everywhere, and Dean Winchester is fighting for his life, alone. The questions now are, is how did he get here, and where the hell is Sam and Castiel? (language so beware)
1. Chapter 1

_**This is probably just a one-shot. But we'll see.**_

* * *

A shrill chill nipped at his back, forcing his eyes to groggily lift open. It had been a long night, and his body was no where near recovered enough to be awake. For the last week he had been running for his life, being chased by undead creatures content with ripping him to shreds. When he first woke in this new and completely damaged world, Dean couldn't help but ask himself how and why he was there. In the beginning he figured it to be the work of angels- Since it was well known they often thrust a soul into the past or future. But in the week he had been there, no one had communicated with him. He had no idea why he was there, or what his mission was supposed to be. So far it seemed that he was stuck.

He left the sanctuary of the hayloft he had camped out in the night before. It was one of the only buildings he had come across during his traveling that was still relatively intact. Towns, cities, houses had been completely gutted, looted and ransacked. Most were just charred rubble.

Just as he did every morning when he woke he prayed to Castiel, hoping maybe one of these days the angel would hear him and tell him what the hell was going on.

"So, Cas- I think I'm near Hoopston Illinois- Least that's the last town I went through. It's cold as hell and dammit- Just as every other friggin town I've found it's crawling with zombies. I don't know what the hell is goin on, why I'm here, why I'm alone. Still haven't found Sam, don't even know if he was shipped here with me. I haven't found anyone that hasn't tried to eat my fuckin face off. I'm seriously beginning to wonder if I'm the last man on earth."

He listened to the deafening silence, waiting to hear the familiar flutter of his friends wings- Waiting to hear his low gravelly voice, but there was nothing. Nothing but the piercing cold, and the howling winter wind that blasted against the barns rickety walls.

With a sigh he started down the ladder from the hayloft, after throwing what little belongings he'd acquired over his shoulder. It wasn't much, a tattered backpack that he'd stuffed with a few random canned goods, a hunting knife, and one or two articles of clothing that hadn't been completely destroyed. He didn't like to think of himself as a looter, but there clearly wasn't anyone left living in that old trailer, so he highly doubted they would pitch a fit over him taking their things.

In his right hand he carried a baseball bat, that he had transformed into a pretty decent lethal weapon. He secretly thanked every single zombie movie, tv show or video game invented. After all, a baseball bat thats end was imbedded with nails proved to make a nasty head wound.

He didn't barge out of the barn without listening before hand. And still all he could hear was the wind. The undead weren't exactly stealthy, it was pretty easy to hear them coming- So he pushed the doors open and glanced out at the frozen ground, and slowly brightening morning sky.

Now came another day of trying not to get eaten so he could find Sam. Normally, in situations where they were separated they always had means of finding one another. Finding the first motel listed in the phone book, taking an assumed name which was always Jim Rockford- Of course, that was when the world wasn't post-apocalyptic. Now that there wasn't anyone left alive, the world had gone to shit and was overloaded with flesh eaters, he wasn't sure how he was going to find his brother.

Sam could be anywhere, if he was even shipped here at all.

Now Dean figured he'd dealt with it all. Heaven, hell, Lucifer and other dick angels- Dying so many times he'd lost count, and finally- What very well seemed to be the end of the world. He just never figured he would actually be alive to witness it, alive and alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Walking through a desolate wasteland was more than unnerving. Dean had found himself stopping along the road to simply gape at every single ounce of destruction he came across. Zombies, sure they were downright creepy and awful, but humans... Once something like this came around they turned into savages.

"How did this happen, Cas?" He asked to himself.

He had been having one sided conversations for the entirety of the day- Thinking maybe he would get lucky and the damn angel might actually hear him. But by now he was beginning to wonder if maybe he was only speaking just so he could actually hear a voice, even if it was his own. Either that, or he was already starting to go crazy.

"Still haven't come across any survivors... Ya know, if I was sent here by an angel, or whatever- Why would they send me to a place where there ain't any friggin people? There's gotta be some lesson to be learned here, so... What the hell is it?"

After a long drawn out sigh, he started off again- Coming to what was left of another town.

"I'm in Danville Illinois now-" Dean kept talking. "Man, you should see this place. It looks like a god damned nuke went off." He paused in the middle of the dead street. "This is a long shot, but just in case you can hear me and can't zap your butt here, why don't we make some kind of plan, huh? I'll be heading to..." He paused and thought of a random city. "Ok, let's just say we'll meet up in Evansville Indiana, once I get there- I'll wait for a week, if you don't show, well..."

He trailed off, spotting the remnants of a restaurant in the distance. Compared to every other building in site it was remarkably intact. His feet immediately darted for it.

Chances of him finding anything edible weren't likely, but he had to at least look. He had one can of pork 'n' beans left, which of course wouldn't last him long. Not to mention that he hadn't had a drop of water all day.

The front doors had been boarded up, along with all of the windows, so he rounded the back of the building- Finding that it as well had been boarded up, but there was a piece of plywood that had been pulled away exposing a small entrance. No doubts someone had already investigated this place, which he hoped meant maybe there actually were survivors. Of course there was always the chance it was a flesh eater that had pried his way free.

He crawled inside anyhow, taking a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness inside- Never once lowering the baseball bat in his hand.

It smelled rank and rotten inside, like spoiled food and rotting flesh. And after a few more careful steps, just passing the bathroom and kitchen, he saw the remains of some poor bastard that had been torn to pieces.

No matter how many he came across that appeared in the same way, he still couldn't help but pause and shake his head at the site. Whoever was responsible for this destruction he couldn't wait to find and kick his ass, or put a bullet in his head.

Despite missing the entire lower half of his body, this man, or woman, he honestly couldn't tell which- Still turned, and with his mangled right arm tried his best to crawl towards Dean- His exposed teeth and gums biting at the air as a disgusting gurgle escaped its throat.

"Sorry, man." Dean said, then with a quick swing embedded the end of his nail enforced bat into his skull.

A disgusting crunch and splatter of brain matter shot across the floor and onto the wall as the result. Afterwards Dean knelt over, noticing a blood streaked name tag on what was left of the mans shirt which read. "Dave."

"Yeah... Sorry, Dave. Bad luck, huh?"

He left the scene behind and checked out the rest of the restaurant before heading to the kitchen. Thankfully there was just the one zombie in this place, so he ever so slightly let his guard down.

Unfortunately he found the kitchen completely destroyed. Just as every building he came across it looked like a bomb had gone off. The walk in freezer was hanging open, and everything inside was spoiled and moldy, which of course didn't provide a very pleasant smell. Despite that he rummaged through the debris, finding one can of fruit cocktail, and surprising enough two cans of green beans. He quickly stuffed them in his backpack and continued to search. He only stopped when he heard a shuffle outside in the dining area.

He made sure to sling his backpack over his shoulder before carefully stepping over garbage and busted glass to the two swinging doors. Through the darkness he could just barely make out a figure, and seeing is that it wasn't dragging a leg behind it, or stumbling- It didn't seem to be another flesh eater. Also, the fact that this person was carrying a shot gun proved that even more.

With a shake of his head he let out a silent grumble. It figures, the first live person he comes across since arriving in this stinking pit of a world, and he just has to be armed.

Whoever this man was, he sifted through the garbage on the restaurant floor before turning and heading back to the area in the window that he had crawled through. Dean waited until he was gone before pushing through the kitchen doors and following.

Chances were he couldn't trust whoever this yahoo was, but just in case he was going to scope him out. Maybe follow him to wherever he was camped out, who knows- Maybe there would be even more survivors.

After he had climbed from the window, he moved through the alley and to the street, spotting the man heading towards the opposite end.

Over the course of the next half hour he was ducking behind burnt out vehicles, random buildings and other things to keep his cover as he followed this person.

By the looks of him, now that he could see him in the daylight- He seemed to be in his early forties, had a long straggly beard and hadn't eaten a decent meal in what looked like weeks. He was thin and gangly, and clearly not in his right mind. He mumbled to himself, as though there was someone walking beside him. Dean couldn't help but ask himself if maybe he would end up the same way after long periods of time in this place. Hell he was already having one sided conversations with himself.

When the man finally stopped, he had started down a side street that was lined with burnt out houses. He made it about half a block before coming to an old RV and after a good look around, climbed inside. Dean couldn't help but arch his brows at that, wondering what exactly this guy might have had hidden inside. He doubted the dude would be willing to share anything with him, and he wasn't one for beating the crap out of some poor bastard and stealing what he had.

So, instead he lingered outside in a set of overgrown bushes waiting for the man to leave again. And after two hours he finally did, he stepped out long enough to dump out the contents of a metal bucket- And Dean immediately looked away cringing. He didn't even want to think about what was inside that. But, seeing is that the man was unarmed now he finally emerged from his hiding spot.

"Uh, hello?" He called out, forcing the man to swing around suddenly. "Hey, whoa whoa. Calm down, dude. I'm not here to cause any trouble."

"Who the hell are you?!" The man shrieked back. "Get off my property! I claimed this spot, it's mine now!"

Dean kept his hands in the air after lying down his baseball bat. "I don't want anything you have, just wanted to ask you a few questions. Is that cool?"

The man fidgeted. "What kinda questions?"

"Let's start with names, huh?" He pointed to himself. "I'm Dean, and you are?"

"Gary." He replied.

"Ok, Gary- These questions might seem a little weird, but... Can you tell me what the hell happened? Let's say I, uh... Just woke up, found the world like this... What happened?"

"Woke up? Were you one of the sick?"

Dean furrowed his brows, not sure what sort of answer Gary expected. "Sick?"

"Yeah... Some got sick with the virus and got better, most died and became biters... Which one are you?" Gary was nervously holding his bucket to his chest.

Seeing is that he couldn't exactly tell him he was shipped here by an angel he decided to lie. "I was sick, for a while... Just woke up and noticed everything like this."

"Lucky then-" Gary lowered his bucket finally. "That means you're immune to the bites."

"Yeah, uh- My mind is kinda fuzzy still, what year is this?"

"2018," He replied, scratching awkwardly at his beard. "Damn, you musta had the fever bad?"

"2018-" He repeated. "What the hell... Ok, uh. When did this virus first show?"

"Started in about two years ago, was just a few cases we heard about on the news- But it got bad quick."

Dean rubbed his hand down his face, trying to soak all of this in. "You ain't the only survivor in this town are you?" He asked now. "There's gotta be more?"

Gary nodded. "After the virus hit the army started takin over- They built an encampment just east of town. There's a few people hauled up there, but, they ain't ones to welcome strangers. I thought it'd be better to just take my chances by myself..." He paused, still nervously fidgeting. "Where you from, kid?"

"Kansas- Don't ask me how I got here, I don't remember."

"You alone?"

"For the moment. I got a brother out there somewhere, I'm trying to find him." He reached back and carefully picked up his bat. "Like I said, I don't want any trouble... I'm just passin by so I'll be on my way."

He turned to leave, but the man stopped him. "Well, wait. You got supplies?"

"Not much-" Dean tried to shield his eyes from the sun. "Hard to find anything lying around."

"Wait right there." Gary held up his finger and returned to his RV, emerging seconds later with a liter of bottled water. "Take this with ya."

"You sure?"

He nodded. "Don't come across many survivors that don't instantly try to take your head off. But, way I figured it- If I can help one out, maybe they'd return the favor someday, so..." He held the water out farther. "Take it."

Dean hesitantly reached over and took the water bottle, giving a nod afterwards. "Thanks."

"God be with ya, kid." Gary replied, closing himself in his RV once more.

As he walked he twisted open the bottle and took a few long gulps, having to force himself to stop so he didn't drink it all. Seeing is that this was the first water he'd had in what felt like forever, he'd have to go sparingly.

"God..." Dean shook his head. "Pretty sure God has left the building."


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel felt himself inexplicably flinch as Sam slammed the machetes blade down onto another biters forehead. He had always sat back and admired humanity, and being forced to see what had become of it was heartbreaking.

They were slowly building up a stack of bodies at their campsite from the night before. Unfortunately Sam had made the mistake of lighting a fire, which apparently was like a giant neon sign for biters.

"We need to keep moving." Sam stated, forcefully pulling the blade free from what looked like a young girls skull. "He said he's gonna be in Evansville?"

"Yes-" Castiel shuddered from the cold breeze, momentarily startled that it actually affected him. "He said he would wait a week for us to show, after that I assume he'll continue on."

Sam wiped the machete clean. "I don't get it... How can you hear Deans prayers if you're not an angel anymore?"

"Technically I'm still an angel, only whomever sent us to this place decided they would do it without giving me my wings, and very little power. I suppose to make it more difficult for us."

"Yeah..." Sam sighed. "They did a pretty good job of that... I guess it wasn't enough to stick us in zombieland. What I still don't understand is why we were put here together... But Dean ended up who the hell knows where?"

"I don't understand it either, Sam."

"It's like whoever did this is purposely punishing Dean... You sure it isn't Lucifer? Maybe he somehow broke back out of his cage?"

Castiel shook his head. "No, I doubt it was Lucifer. If it was, I think instead of going through the trouble of sending us here, he would have rather killed us."

Sam stared off at the large empty field, while kicking the campfire out. "Let's go. We got a half a tank of gas left- We'll be cutting it close, but... I think we can make it to Evansville."

Castiel followed him to the small two door vehicle. Honestly they had gotten lucky at even finding a car at all. Most were burnt, or were missing tires- Others had every drop of gasoline siphoned out. He was considerably lucky as well to have been placed in this world with Sam, instead of left to fend for himself. Without his wings, and with very little powers left, he wouldn't have been able to get himself from one place to another. He had no idea how to operate a vehicle, while Sam had little trouble hot wiring one.

He climbed in the passenger seat while Sam yet again started the car and drove out of the field. Once they hit the road, unfortunately they couldn't excelerate too greatly, considering there were other broken down vehicles, and bodies littering the way.

"So," Sam cleared his throat. "You got any ideas at all at what's going on?"

Castiel shifted slightly, for the moment thankful to have his attention broken from the gore outside.

"I wish I did."

"Seriously," Sam glanced at him quickly before returning his eyes to the road. "You have no ideas at all?"

"Under the circumstances, and considering where we are and what's happened to the world, no doubts it's the work of angels."

Sam rolled his eyes, hoping the angel beside him didn't notice. He would be lying if he said being stuck alone with Castiel twenty four hours a day wasn't a little bit uncomfortable. Cas was Deans friend first and foremost. Not to say that he wasn't his too, but it seemed to Sam that his brother and the angel managed to click a little better than he did. They had a more "profound bond", or whatever that meant- Sam wasn't sure. He assumed it was because Castiel had been the one to survive diving into the depths of hell to rescue Dean. And, whatever else might have come along with that mission obviously bonded them together somehow. He had seen Dean in his most vulnerable state, so it would have been hard for either of them to judge each other.

Himself, on the other hand- Was an abomination. But of course he couldn't exactly take that to heart, Castiel had been drunk when he made that observation.

"Ok, so-" He finally went on. "If it _is _angels, then who would it be? Zachariah's dead, Michael's locked in the cage with Lucifer. Gabriel's dead, Raphael too. Who else would actually pull this crap?"

Cas stared down at his dirty trench coat. "I don't know, Sam. I haven't heard any communication over angel radio, everything is completely silent. So that either means I've been cut off, or there simply aren't any angels left. At least, not any that are willing to relay information to me. Obviously there has to be at least one, since we somehow ended up here, and the dead are being transformed into..."

"Yeah ok, Cas-" Sam interrupted. "I get it. You have no clue, I get it." He let out a raspy sigh. "Great... We're stuck here in this place with no way of knowing who sent us or why. Which means, if we can't figure out who it is we won't be able to get back to our own time."

"That sounds accurate." Cas replied dully.

Sam shook his head, before flicking on the radio for what felt like the millionth time. He started scanning through channels hearing nothing but static. But he had started doing that since the moment they woke up in this world, just in case.

"How long do you think it will take to arrive to Evansville?" Cas asked.

"Depends..." Sam answered. "On if we run out of gas and have to start walking."

"If we don't?"

"Six hours, give or take... Since the roads aren't exactly _clear_, it's not like I can step on the gas."

Castiel nodded. "I understand. Although if Dean is on foot, it will take him far longer to arrive. Which means we'll have to wait. I would suggest once we get into town that we find some sort of structure that's secure. You can't keep sleeping outdoors in such frigid temperatures, Sam."

"No kidding-" He snorted. "I thought I was gonna freeze to death last night. Guess I made a mistake though by lighting that damn fire, huh?"

"I'm sure it's only a matter of time before I as well will begin to experience discomfort from the cold. Since I've been cut off from heaven, it won't be long until all of my powers are gone. My "mojo" as Dean likes to call it will gradually fade. Soon, I won't be any different than the two of you."

Sam could only stare blankly ahead after that comment- He hoped that they could figure a way out of this mess before it came to that. It certainly was handy having an angel around that could physically tare a biters head off with his bare hands- Or standing guard all night since he didn't need to sleep.

* * *

Dean paused only long enough to take a few deep pants before taking off again. For the moment it seemed he'd lost the small crowed of flesh eaters that were after him. Since he was outnumbered, he couldn't exactly take the time to bash all of their heads in- Opting instead for running away. Since the zombies were walking rotting corpses they weren't very fast, so it was easy for Dean to lose them. Still... He didn't much like the thought of leaving them alive to tare apart some other poor sonofa bitch.

He had made the mistake of entering a grocery store, and while it proved beneficial in the sense that he had found a few bottle of water and a jar of pickles- It wasn't exactly worth the risk seeing is that it was full of the undead. He just barely managed to crawl out a busted window before one of them gnawed on his leg. That of course began the chase which had sent him into the lower class area of this town.

Somehow the houses here hadn't been completely ransacked, so he spent the next hour rummaging through peoples kitchens and belongings, hitting the mother load when he found a pantry stocked full of canned goods.

"Hell yes-" He chuckled, immediately stuffing his backpack full. "Never thought I'd be so happy to find canned peas and corn."

When his eyes fell upon an unopened package of protein bars he even more so felt like cheering. He instantly ripped one open and took a huge bite.

"Little stale-" He shrugged. "But I ain't complainin."

As he ate he started through the house, making his way to the master bedroom. It was surprisingly intact, at least in the sense that the bed still had its pillows and blankets, and the closet was still full of clothes. After grabbing an empty duffel bag lying on the floor he started stuffing shirts inside of it. They would be a little big, but he didn't care. Besides, whenever he found Sammy he figured that the kid would need something else to wear.

"Should be the perfect size for you, gigantor." He snickered.

Of course it wasn't going to be a picnic lugging his now overly stuffed backpack and now a duffel bag around with him- But he felt like a kid in a frickin candy store. This was the most he'd found ever since he woke up in this place. He wasn't about to leave it behind.

"Ok, Cas-" He yet again started talking to himself. "Don't ask me where the hell I'm at now, this town didn't have a sign- Or at least one I could see. But I'm headin south, gonna try to find a car somewhere that hasn't been hulk smashed to death. Hopefully I can get a ride."

He lugged both bags over his shoulders and left the house behind, stopping once he saw something glistening in the light. It was almost like a shining beacon, and he felt himself grin widely like an idiot.

"Oh, baby... Yes." He said, darting across the street.

It was a car, just a normal average soccer Moms car, but to him it was like a friggin Lamborghini. It was intact, but one of the windows in the back had been busted. But as long as it still had its tires and some gas, he was thankful.

Within minutes he had tossed his bags in the backseat, hot wired the puppy and sped off.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean found himself driving nonstop for a good ten hours, but by the time he pulled over in an open field, the sun was just starting to rise. It wasn't a good idea to sleep out in the open like this- Even inside a car he could wake up and be completely surrounded by the undead. Still, he was about ready to collapse from being so exhausted, so he decided to risk it.

He cranked the seat back a little bit and closed his eyes, falling to sleep almost instantly. He wasn't sure how long he'd slept, but he was awoken by the sound of gurgling and fabric tearing. After jumping in his seat he noticed a zombie trying to crawl its way into the busted window in the back, but its shirt had gotten stuck on a jagged piece of glass.

"Dammit." He muttered, reaching into his jacket and pulling out his knife. "You couldn't have let me sleep a little while longer you undead freak?"

The zombie responded by snapping his teeth at him, reaching over with a hand whose skin was practically falling off. Dean promptly replied to that by turning around in his seat and jamming the knife in his head. Once he was through he tossed the knife in the passenger seat, started the car and drove off. The body slid back out onto the ground as he sped away.

He had just crossed over into Indiana, and it would be a couple more hours before he reached Evansville. For the moment he had nothing else to do but to listen to the static on the radio and munch on another stale protein bar.

Unfortunately Indiana was just as obliterated as Illinois- Although he hardly expected any different. Only there was more open country and dried up corn fields for miles around. He ended up taking the back roads instead of the interstate, finding they were less crowded- In fact he was able to speed the majority of the way. He could only imagine how Evansville was going to be. So far he had steered clear of the bigger cities, but he could only guess that he wouldn't get as lucky as far as the undead goes now.

"Maybe I shoulda picked a smaller town." He grumbled as he finally came to the city entrance.

The roads were completely packed full of burnt and abandoned vehicles. He ended up having to leave his car behind as he started off on foot.

"Ok Cas, so- I'm in Evansville, or... What's left of it. I'm gonna find the first building that isn't hijacked by a bunch of zombies and I'm gonna camp out and wait for ya." He said. "I'll let ya know."

He lugged his bags over one shoulder, making certain that he could easily drop them in case he ran into trouble. His baseball bat was caked with blood and brain matter, and definitely didn't smell the best in the world. Honestly he would give anything for a gun and ammunition. Definitely less messy that way.

When he entered the side streets of Evansville, he felt his strides slow once he noticed a crowd of undead surrounding some unfortunate victim who had long sense been ripped to shreds. He gagged slightly at how they stuffed handfuls of the man or womans innards into their mouths.

* * *

Sam let out a slight grunt after being tackled by a biter he had just smashed his machete down on. A piece of the creatures head flew one direction, while his body went straight towards him, pinning him to the concrete. He quickly rolled the thing off, and jumped back to his feet, intervening with a trio of more biters that had Castiel backed against a brick wall. Cas was completely inexperienced with weapons, unless of course it was his angel blade, and had relied solely on his powers, which were dwindling by the second. The hunting knife Sam had given him had literally fallen off its hilt after he jammed the blade down into a mans skull. After that, he was weaponless, and had to resort to using his hands. But, since he wasn't as strong as he normally was- It was becoming more and more difficult to simply rip a biters head off its shoulders.

Once the way was partially clear, at least in the sense that they could run through without being surrounded, Sam actually had to drag Cas by the coat sleeve down a side road before coming to where they had made camp the night before. It was what had previously been a hardware store, with an apartment just on the second floor above. Whoever had owned the shop beforehand had already went through the process of boarding up every window, and the apartment itself had been sectioned off to trap any biter that might have made it inside.

"Dean just had to pick Evansville." Sam huffed, as they started up the steps and back into the apartment.

Once Cas stumbled into the door Sam slammed it shut and bolted it with six deadbolts that had been hastily installed.

"Sam, we can't remain here-" Cas said. "Dean is out there somewhere, in this city on his own. We have to find him."

"I know-" Sam brushed his hair back and tried to calm down. "But how in the hell are we supposed to find him when we have no idea where he is? You said he'd pray to you when he found a safe spot, right?"

"Yes, but that was hours ago, and I haven't heard a word from him since."

"Dammit." Sam began to pace, much like he had been hours ago when Castiel first heard Deans last prayer. "Just, gimme a second to think of something."

He moved to a small metal toolbox which he had stuffed full of random weapons he'd found along the way. He grabbed another knife which he handed to Cas.

"Don't break that one." He commanded. "And just... Get it together would you? We both can't have a meltdown at once, we'll never find Dean that way. One of us has to stay calm."

"Calm." Cas rolled his eyes. "And _how _exactly am I to remain calm considering the situation?"

Sam didn't answer that, because if he did it would probably be along the lines of punching the angel in the nose. This was his brother that was out there alone, and whenever it came to his brother common sense seemed to fly out the window. He was content with getting himself ripped to shreds as long as it meant finding Dean was alive and not zombie chow.

"It's gonna be dark soon," Sam said, moving to the window to peer out through the gaps in the boards. "We need to find him before sundown."

The days were difficult enough at trying to avoid being eaten, but after dark it became a million times worse. It seemed as though the biters were more nocturnal, if that's at all possible, and their bearings were much stronger in the dark.

"I told you we shouldn't have left our arsenal in the trunk." The angel scowled.

"Cas!" Sam snapped. "Stop lecturing me and let's just go!"

Cas only squinted his eyes at the youngest Winchester, but followed him back outside from the apartment despite it.

Sam checked the pistol he kept stuffed in his belt, noticing he had three rounds left. He definitely did _not _want to admit that Cas was right. They shouldn't have left their weapons in the trunk- But they were heavy, and hard to lug around. They had raided a gun shop a few towns back and had gotten considerably lucky to find anything. But, the town looked as though it had gone to shit pretty damn fast, so no one had the sense to loot the place before getting eaten.

But a hell of a lot of good those guns did when they left them in the trunk at the edge of town. The only thing they could bring with them was a pistol each, which Castiel was completely clueless on how to use. Sam had to end up taking it back because the angel was mainly wasting ammo.

He glanced back at Cas as they walked down the street- He looked exhausted, hungry and thirsty, and his trench coat was stained with blood and dirt.

"Hey, Cas-" He said, interrupting the silence. "Do you think... Maybe, since your losing your powers you might not be able to hear Deans prayers from here on out?"

"I haven't lost them completely, Sam." He replied. "I still retain a small amount."

"Maybe so, but uh, well look at you, man. You look ready to fall over. Once we find Dean maybe you should think about getting some sleep?"

"I'm fine." Cas barked back. "It would be impossible for me to sleep, Sam. I'm an angel."

Sam rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the destroyed street. He wasn't so sure if Cas could still be considered an angel. His powers were fading fast, almost by the second. Even though he wouldn't admit it, Cas had nodded off a few times during the drive earlier that morning. He needed to eat and drink something, he needed to sleep- But Cas was more content with pretending to still be what he used to be rather than admitting he needed any of that. He was going to run himself face first into the dirt, which of course would only create problems for the rest of them.

But it didn't matter, Sam thought. Because if Cas would listen to anyone, it would be Dean... After they found Dean he would let him deal with Cas' drama, force some damn food down the guys throat and order him to sleep. He just hoped that Cas being ready to keel over wouldn't get them ripped to shreds before that time came.


End file.
